The Untold Story of Dudley Durlsey and His Daughter, Jillian
by alixxblack
Summary: When I got the letter for Jillian, I didn't know what to do - except for this one thing. I needed someone to help me, and I could think of only one person left that I could trust. (This story is marked complete but has the potential to become a multi-chapter fic in the distant future).


Disclaimer (1): I am not JKR nor her publishers, so all copyright retention applies.

Disclaimer (2): This was written for the Houses Competition being hosted by Moonlight Forgotten. All appropriate Author's Notes can be found at the end of the story.

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 **Read & Enjoy**

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 **TO: MISS JILLIAN DURSLEY**

 **44 PRIOR STREET,**

 **GREENWICH, SE10**

 **LONDON**

 **DEAR JILLIAN DURSLEY**

 **We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.**

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"What's Hogwarts?" Jillian asks politely, her hands moving around quickly to set the table. I just watch her for a few moments, wondering what lies I can tell her to buy some time. Yet, I know she's seen the letter because it's been left on the counter. I left it there yesterday while I penned a request to the only person I could trust enough to help with this difficult task.

So I sigh shakily, "It's a school for special girls and boys."

"But witchcraft is bad, isn't it? What would that sort of school want with me? I'm a good girl, aren't I?" Jillian worries too much for a child so young. I tell her that the problems we've had aren't her fault but I am not sure that she believes me. Her grandparents died when she was too young to remember them, and her mom died when she was just six years old.

I never grew up thinking I'd be a dad. I wasn't even sure I'd get married. Meeting Jillian's mother was unexpected. She was just a member of the medical staff when I went to the hospital after a bad boxing accident. She was cute and I was interested, and the rest sort of evolved from there. We weren't as in love as others, but we weren't as miserable as others either. Mostly we worked opposite shifts after I got into Transportation in the subways.

When she came to me and told me she was pregnant, as if she thought she'd already mentioned it, I pretended not to be worried. I'd fought men ten times the size of a baby, and they were attacking me! A baby wasn't going to be a problem, that's what I said to her. When Jillian was born I showed no signs of fear. Though, all these years later I tremble at the thought I might be messing up. Even when Jillian's mother alive, I was always frightened I'd raise my voice too high or punish her too harshly.

Time passes. I forget my fear of failure for weeks or months at a time while we go through the grind. My neighbors see Jillian off of the bus during the school year, and keep her minded during the summers. When we spend time together, we are quite happy, and when we're scrounging for time we're pleasant just the same.

The morning the letter came brought those fears rushing back, but with a new vigor. Though I rarely can afford the extra time off, I took it. I sent Jillian to the neighbor as I always do but I took a road trip back Surrey. I sat in front of my childhood home and I thought about the last time I'd seen a letter from Hogwarts.

I cried for hours in my car. What was I going to do? A daughter… _my daughter_ …

"Of course you're a good girl, Jily. Besides, there's nothing bad about witchcraft. Magic can be great fun! Just like in the princess movies we watch, eh?" My mind comes back to the moment I'm in right now, the one where my daughter's blue-green eyes are peering up at me. I walk around the counter and join Jillian at the table.

"I don't believe in magic, Daddy, you know that." She scoffs, but it is exaggerated and I know she's only pretending not to believe. The kids these days, they do not want to be seen as little kids. Young and younger, it seems, I see kids riding the subway alone. Though much of my time is spent in an office, when I'm in the field hiring and training, _I see it_. The world is different.

And yet, that world isn't as different as the one I'll be sending my little girl off to see! I can help her stay away from all the usual things like criminals and drugs. I can help her find comfort in herself and a reason to smile every day. I even think I was going to be able to pay her through school, honestly. Now? I have no idea what I'm going to do for her.

I check the plates just to busy myself; "Did I tell you who is coming over for dinner?" Jillian shakes her head. Instinctually, my eyes search for the clock. He's written back just this morning that he'll be coming, and I said at seven this evening, so I am checking on how long it is until he arrives. It's only a few minutes now so I want to stall for just a bit longer. Her excitement will help carry me through the awkward shock of this impromptu reunion.

"Carly thinks you want me to meet your new girlfriend." Jillian remarks. We have no secrets, except for this one, so she knows that I haven't been dating since her mother passed away. There have been dates for coffee, and play-dates with her friends' parents, but nothing that ever amounts to anything. Jillian and I have always been fine with out anyone else.

I laugh at her; "What nonsense! Carly loves her drama, doesn't she?"

"No, I've invited your Uncle Harry." I reveal after a brief pause.

The name isn't unfamiliar to her. When others ask about my family, specifically if there is anyone left, I tell them of a distant cousin who works a lot of hours and has a big family. I don't know, of course, if any of it is true. I've not spoken to Harry in over a decade. I wait for Jillian to ask her questions, my mind listening closely for the knocker or doorbell.

"Why?" She scrunches her nose the way she usually does when her tummy hurts. I know she doesn't mean to look uncomfortable, but with kids it just happens unexpectedly. Eagerly I reach my hands to offer her assurance. Anytime she gets nervous, wrapping my fingers around her tiny fists makes her calm down.

Then I tell her in a rushed breath that I haven't always told her the truth about Uncle Harry. She shoots her tongue at me with a crude noise of disapproval. Kids don't like hearing they've been lied to, and I've never had to tell Jillian that I've been dishonest. The only thing that keeps me level is that she doesn't pull away from me, no matter how displeased she is about my secret.

"I thought it was fishy," she starts, "because he's your cousin. Carly says that your cousin is my cousin too. He should be Cousin Harry, not Uncle Harry."

Hard as it is to admit, Harry was more like a brother to me than a cousin. We grew up side-by-side. Our treatment wasn't the same, and that's what brings a stinging to my eyes. All through my childhood I watched, and I _participated_ , in the mistreatment of him. Harry was a second-hand human being in our household, if even that, and it was all because he had magic. How am I supposed to raise a daughter well when that's what I've done to someone like her in the past?

A tear escapes and I am grateful to be able to hide it when the doorbell buzzes, followed by a stern knocking. I hide my face from Jillian and make my way to the front door. More tears roll down my cheeks the instant I see that Harry Potter is, as planned, on my doorstep. He's dressed normally, jeans and plaid button-up. It is precisely what he wore when we were younger. Though his hair is just as dark, I can see the aging in his face.

Both of us are standing there, not quite sure what to say or do; and I'm crying now because I'm panicking. I don't want to lose Jillian – not even to a world I don't understand, but to a place I cannot follow her. I'll never be magic. I'll never be enough for her once she's seen that life. Even when I was scared of it, I was always in awe.

Harry makes the first move, "I was glad for your letter, Dudley."

I don't deserve his kindness, but I accept it when he opens his arms. Reuniting with Harry was something I only daydreamed about in my darkest days. For years I've counted on Jillian being my only family. Having him here, even just to help court my daughter away, is more than I could have imagined.

"I'm sorry."

It is an apology for everything, the things I did and the things I didn't say. I want to go back and let him know what I really thought of him, especially after the attack. Harry called them Dementors. I researched them once and I've never been able to forget the name or the incident. The images I saw – of myself being terrible and rotten and selfish and cruel…

"I know, but let's not dwell on that, yeah?" The expression he makes is all too familiar. When he doesn't want to talk about something, I'd seen it when my father used to scold him for this or that, and I cannot believe right now that I remember that expression perfectly. I really loved him as if he were my brother even though I never once acted that way.

I take his coat and hang it on a hook that's not even in a closet. I refuse to use the cupboard under our stairs for anything, not even storage. The door is locked and it remains precisely that way at all times. The idea of seeing Jillian inside, even just to get something, brings back bone-chilling memories of Harry being locked inside one as though it were a room.

Before I make it down the hallway I hear Jillian's voice, sternly telling Harry that she'll not call him _Uncle_ because he's not her uncle. _Cousin_ is who he is to her and that's all she'll call him; "So, _Cousin_ Harry, you know all about how everyone is dead? Me and Daddy are the last Dursleys now."

Too late it occurs to me that I should've had Harry wait for me to tag along into the kitchen. It's a small place and I didn't direct him, so this was bound to happen in my absentmindedness. Quickly my feet lead me to Jillian's side where I am reaching for with one hand and drying my eyes with the other; "Now, now, Jily, we didn't invite Uncle-"

 _"COUSIN!"_ She interrupts.

"-Cousin Harry came here because of your letter. I had him come to talk about your invitation to that magic school, remember?" Embarrassment floods me in a way that I've never felt before, and I think Harry finds it hilarious. He has a smile on his face and both hands behind his back. I stare at him with just as much confusion as my daughter.

"Ah, yes, Hogwarts. It's a school for people with magic. I went there myself, you know." Jily shakes her head, because she doesn't know, but she doesn't look as skeptical of him as she did when I said just as much. This is why I wanted him to visit; this is why I'll need him for the next seven years. Jily needs a role model who can guide her in the ways of magic.

"I don't want to go alone. I won't know anybody there." Jily declares, her entire body slamming against mine. For once it occurs to me that she might be just as scared as I am about leaving home. Regret over my selfishness settles and I can tell I'll cry if I don't busy myself. At the same time, I can't bear to let her go.

Harry shrugs; "It would be a shame if you didn't go to Hogwarts. My sons are going right now, and my daughter will be going next year too." I am glad to hear I was not off about his family. He has at least three kids, if not more, it seems, which certainly would be reason enough not to come looking for me. I never expected him to do so considering the way I treated him, but he had plenty on his plate regardless of what happened between us.

"What is your daughter's name?" Jillian inquires. She likes names. It is her theory than knowing someone's name means they'll live on forever in someone's memory. As a father, it hurts to know that her brain works in that way. No child should spend her time trying to cradle images and experiences away in her head as if it were a library or a time capsule.

"Lily. I named her after my mum." I feel my gut drop, knowing that he's about to say something to her that will make her love him and trust him. It is everything I wanted from this moment. The breath I suck in feels foreign and frozen in time as I hear Harry say to her, "She died when I was a baby, you see, so I wanted to give her memory a new life inside my daughter."

Harry and Jillian take their place at the dinner table while I bring out the salad I prepared when I came home from work. They make their bowls while I sear off the steaks to put atop the slow-cooked vegetables. As I go through these motions, ones I saw my mother perfect during my childhood, I cannot help but wonder what she'd think of me now. Inviting Harry around to speak with my daughter about magic. She would be disappointed, right alongside with my father, I think, but I choose to focus on the brilliant stories Harry is telling about his own children instead.

Dinner passes quickly, and the light fades away. I find that my nerves are completely gone by the time Harry admits that he really must get going so he can see his wife off in the morning. Something about watching a World Cup game and she needs to arrive early for press. He promises that he'll tell Jillian all about it another time.

As he walks out, I see my daughter race over to him and grab him by the waist; "Promise you'll come to visit again – and bring your daughter! Can you imagine, Lily and Jily? We could be best friends! Promise me, Cousin Harry! Promise me!"

Harry looks up at me. I almost know before he says it but the surprise hits me in the chest; "Actually, there's a family reunion coming up. My wife's family, but I'm sure they'd love to meet you!"

Jillian immediately starts making plans for her outfit and her hair as I usher her upstairs for the night. Harry remains by the door until I can see him off properly. I offer my hand to him but he pulls me into a hug just as he had done earlier, and it dawns on me that I desperately needed it.

"I mean it, Dudley, I want you guys to come to the reunion. Hermione's parents come around all the time for holidays. Muggle or not, you're family to me."

Of all the things that he thinks would separate us – it's not the bullying, the name-calling, the nagging, or the hatred - it's the _magic_ that he thinks makes us different. I wish I could find it in myself to forgive me the way Harry has managed. And then I reveal to him what has been itching at my throat.

"What if I treat her the way I treated you?"

Harry seems to ponder it as my vision blurs and my composure deteriorates. As nice as the evening has been so far, I can't let him leave without saying what has been bothering me all these days. I cannot count the nightmares I've had about me yelling atrocities at my daughter for being a witch. Before I'm sobbing too hard, though, Harry blurts out - _"Nonsense!"_

He continues after a brief pause, "She loves you enough to want to protect you. I can think of no better father for a young girl who has just found out she's got magic." Harry steps away from door and looks around. I want to thank him but he disappears before I can manage to say the words. My mind tries to race but the sound of Jillian calling out to me reminds me: I still have to tuck her in for the night.

"Coming!" I shout in reply. I jog up the stairs making an obnoxious thud with each movement. When I go inside, Jillian reminds me that we've been invited to a family reunion and it would be rude to decline.

I lay next to her as she speculates about what it'll be like when we meet our new family.

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 **Author's Notes:**

 **Ravenclaw, Short Story (Reunion), 2,833 words**


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